Bond
by Slytherin's King
Summary: If there was one of his colleague Nicholas still had a hard time getting along with, it was definitely Andy. Not The Andies, and surprisingly enough, it wasn't Wainwright. But even a year after the events in Sandford, Andrew Cartwright was still the one cop in the station he knew the least. It wasn't like Andy was trying to be obnoxious or avoid getting close, he was just quiet.
1. Time Off

**A/N: So I don't think there's going to be many readers, unfortunately there's not many works for the Hot Fuzz fandom and it's such a shame. This movie is brilliant (and has been my favorite for years).**

 **So anyway, I love the Andies, so much. Yes they are dickheads but... i love them don't blame me.**  
 **Of course, there will be Nicholas and Danny together, it is canon and we love them amirite.**  
 **I was writing the story for myself, thinking no one would ever read it anyway but... why not post it and see what happens. I hope you'll like it.**

 **IMPORTANT: english is NOT my native language (which is French) so I'm really sorry if the spelling is American, or things like that. I just want to write a story about a ship I love, giving the characters backstories, etc. I'm only doing that because that's what I like to do.**  
 **ALSO. I live for angst. So sorry about that.**

* * *

If there was one of his colleague Nicholas still had a hard time getting along with, it was definitely Andy. Not The Andies, and surprisingly enough, it wasn't Wainwright. But even a year after the events in Sandford, Andrew Cartwright was still the one cop in the new station he knew the least.

It wasn't like Nicholas was trying his hardest to spend time with him and become his friend, but still. The team was often hanging out in the pub, and they had definitely become closer soon after the whole incident.

Even Wainwright's snide remarks had become jokes, and Nicholas had been able to have real conversations with him more than once.

And it wasn't like Andy was trying to be obnoxious or avoid getting close, he was just… quiet. Quieter, also calmer than Wainwright, without being totally silent either. He just seemed to not like talking about himself, and most of the time, he'd talk when addressed to, or to joke around with Andrew. Or maybe calmer wasn't the right word. He just seemed to do most things lazily, unless he was really getting into it. As if Andrew had more energy than him, or as if sometimes, he was pulling the weight of the world behind him when he was walking. It seemed hard to coax the cold out of him. If Wainwright was more aggressive, Cartwright was definitely more contemptuous.

Andy wasn't apathetic, at least not all the time. Nicholas had only noticed him staring into space a few times, and once that was done, and for the rest of the day, he'd act this way. But he had also seen him get into lively conversations with his best friend, making him laugh and talking a whole bunch.

.

Sometimes, Nicholas was just wondering about him. Like that very evening in the station.

Discovering more about his colleagues over the last year, he had learned about some of their little traditions. One of them was for the birthdays. At first, for Danny's birthday, Nicholas had thought it had only been Frank's idea for his son. But later that year, for Doris' birthday, they had done the same thing, and so on and so forth. Despite not really being into the celebrations, the Andies were participating. After all, they were kind of a family. The only time Cartwright seemed more into it was for Andy's birthday, on the 7th of May. Roughly a month later, it had been Danny's birthday. The year had gone so fast. And now, it was about to be Andrew Cartwright's birthday. It was exactly a month after Danny's, but this time, Nicholas hadn't noticed any talk about a cake or a gift they could give him. Not even from Wainwright.

The year before, with the shootout, they hadn't celebrated Andy's birthday. He had actually been out of the little town with his father at that moment. Nicholas had thought he just wanted to celebrate it with him, far from all the trouble, just to have a moment of peace. He had wished him a happy birthday after he came back, only to receive a glance and a small nod, and he wasn't sure if Andy had been annoyed or not. He thought that maybe, he was still a bit shaken up by all the events, most of the town still was. This year, he thought it would be different. And yet, no one seemed to care about his birthday. He didn't really asked questions, the only time he tried to ask Danny, his partner had told him that he didn't have to worry about it, that it was normal. But he had definitely looked a bit uncomfortable. Nicholas hadn't pressed the matter.

And that evening, in the station, he was in his office, working on some paperwork, when Danny came in.

"We're ready to head out to the pub, you comin'?" he asked with a smile. Nicholas looked up for a second, thinking. Maybe this could wait until tomorrow. Danny walked in the office. "Come on, come with us!" he insisted, "Switch off! I'll pay you the first drink!"

Nicholas let out a quiet laugh as he put his pen down.

"Alright," he said as he stood up. "But only because you're offering," he said as if it mattered. As he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, he heard knocking. Both Danny and Nicholas looked at the door, only to see Andy, one hand in his pocket, the other still with the back of his finger against the door. He looked a bit pale, he was probably just tired. Behind him, they could see the small group of cops head out with the three new recruits, expect for the second Andy, who stayed somehow near the office, but not close enough for him to actually hear the conversation.

"Sir," Andy said, slightly turning his head to look away as if he was disinterested. He wasn't calling Nicholas "sir" very often.

"Oh, right, you wanted to see me," Nicholas suddenly recalled. "Please, come in," he said, slightly waving his hand to invite him in. Andy took a deep breath but didn't sigh as he walked in, now both hands in his pockets. "What did you want to talk to me about?" Nicholas asked, walking in front of his desk and slightly leaning against it as he crossed his arms. Andy first looked at him before his gaze slowly drifted on Danny, who was still behind the desk. He stared for a moment, waiting for Butterman to get the hint. After a few seconds, Nicholas turned his head to look at Danny too. The Sergeant, very curious about the conversation, finally reacted.

"Oh, right! 'will be waiting for you outside," he said, quickly getting out of the office. Yet, outside seemed to mean outside the office, not outside of the station. The left corner of Nicholas' lips slightly curled up as he knew Danny was letting his curiosity take the best of him, staying near enough to try and hear the conversation without being obvious. Andy didn't seem to care, at that point, and Nicholas knew that if what he really wanted was privacy, he would either tell Danny so, or directly close the door.

"What is it, Andy?" Nicholas asked again, now focusing on him.

"I know you ain't Butterman," he started saying with a drawl, taking a step towards Nicholas who just looked down for a second. He didn't really like to think about Frank. "But… every year, he'd let me go back to my old village to visit my family for… my birthday," he said, looking away and getting one hand out of his pockets to wave it in a way of saying "or wathever". Nicholas was a bit surprised. So, it wasn't just an improvised little road trip with his father, he was doing that every year. "It's not this week-end, it's-"

"Next week-end. I know when your birthday is," Nicholas said, interrupting him, as to say that he didn't have to explain the situation more to him. It was kind, though, as he slightly smiled when he finally met Andy's eyes again. "That's why we don't celebrate it here, I suppose? You know, it's no bother, we can still do something for you when you come back, you shouldn't be exempt from a little celebration if even Andy has to go through it every year."

Andy didn't seem to find it funny, or at least he didn't show it at that very moment. He just slightly looked down again, visibly a bit anxious as he clenched his teeth.

"I don't need-" he started rather quickly, a bit nervous, before he glanced at Nicholas again. His boss was slightly frowning. "It's fine. I don't even celebrate it, really, I just want… my week-end off. It's not like there's a lot going on lately." he said more calmly. It only made Nicholas' frown more visible.

"You don't celebrate your birthday? How come?" he asked. Andy didn't answer, he just looked kind of frustrated and Nicholas pursed his lips for a second. "Fine, I'll see what I can do. It's a bit on short notice, you realize that?"

"If it's about the shifts, I can… do more hours or whatever, take care of the paperwork and just…" he stopped himself from sighing as he closed his eyes for a second. He seemed to be about to say something, but he didn't, as if he could hardly stop himself from insisting more. "Whatever," he sighed, giving up already, "just let me know."

Nicholas watched him turn around and walk out the office, completely taken aback by the exchange. He didn't move for a moment, he only stared as Andy walked past Danny to reach his best friend. He walked past him as well, Wainwright directly following him. He gave a tap on Andy's back before putting his hand on his shoulders, walking behind him as they got out, Cartwright taking his cigarettes out of his pocket.

Danny was also watching them before slowly walking back into Nicholas office, staying near the door.

"D'you think you'll find time for him to go then?" he asked. Nicholas finally looked at him, getting out of his thoughts.

"Um… I don't know, Danny," he said, finally walking around his desk again to open a drawer and get some papers out to check the shifts.

"I'm sure you could find a way," Danny said timidly as he walked further in, trying to glance at the papers as well. Nicholas looked up.

"Danny, is there something going on that I should know about?" he finally asked, getting a bit impatient. If even he was insisting… Danny only shrugged before talking again, looking at his hands, fiddling with his fingers.

"I-I just think… he shouldn't miss a tradition, right? He's been doing that for twenty years, I mean," Danny explained without looking at Nicholas who frowned a little.

"He's never missed it? In twenty years?"

"Twenty-one, if we count this year," Danny said more quietly. The frown on Nicholas face wasn't going away, indicating that Danny had to go on. "It's a pretty important week-end, from what I know… Or… a pretty important date."

"He doesn't even celebrate it," Nicholas said, straightening up as he pushed his papers away, solely focusing on what Danny was saying, certain that he was talking about his birthday.

"It's just… I don't know if…" Again, he was visibly uncomfortable, like that other time Nicholas had asked about Andy's birthday. "You can't tell him I've told you," Danny quickly said.

"Alright," Nicholas said directly, just wanting to know what was happening on that week-end exactly. If it was that important, he'd find a way to let Andy go.

"It's… about his mom," Danny finally said quietly as he looked at his fingers again. Nicholas crossed his arms again, moving to sit on the side of his desk, but still facing Danny. "She… passed away the same day."

"What?" Nicholas let out in a whisper, his gaze drifting down as he stared at nothing, taken aback.

"Yeah, I just know she was sick," Danny continued. "I think it was cancer, and they couldn't do anything. That's when he moved in Sandford with his dad, he was thirteen. His dad grew up here, so I guess it made sense." Nicholas finally looked at him again, feeling suddenly a bit overwhelmed. There was a moment of silence, that seemed to be longer than it actually was.

"S'always been quiet, Andy," Danny added even more quietly, as if he knew he probably shouldn't be talking about all this. "I remember the first time I saw him… Was in front of the farm, you know, his father sells apples and all that. They moved right next to it and they were getting the boxes in, Andy wasn't helping, don't think he really wanted to be here to be honest," Danny said, laughing a little. It could have seemed insensitive, but it was a nervous and short laughter, because he was picturing the memory in his mind again and felt uncomfortable. He looked down. "I thought maybe… maybe we could be friends, you know. But, um, he met Andy, who's always been a bit of a twat, right, and they've been inseparable ever since."

Inseparable, huh? Nicholas looked away again, at the floor of his office, at the door, at the corner of the room the Andies had disappeared behind a few minutes before.

"That's why we don't talk about it," Nicholas said, not exactly asking, because he knew the answer, but still wanting to know a bit more.

"Yeah, I should have told you, really, I just didn't think about it with all the shit that went down last year…" Nicholas took a deep breath and sighed.

"I understand," he said. He looked at Danny again. "So, every year they return to where he lived before?" Danny quickly nodded.

"I just know 'cause I heard dad talking about it once, years ago, sometime after the Andies were hired, 'cause there was an incident…" he said, not going into details about it. "His grandparents are still there. His mom's parents, I mean. They own a pub, and they just go see them every year. I think he does whenever he's taking entire week-ends off. No one talks about it around here, we just know better, it… it upsets him," he said, thinking about the incident he had mentioned, something that had happened in the station years ago and that had almost got Andy fired. Since then, none of his colleagues had ever mentioned his birthday again.

Again, Nicholas nodded before he stood up, putting his hand on Danny's shoulder for a short moment.

"Thank you, Danny," he said. His partner gave him a smile and Nicholas finally put his jacket on. "Let's go join everyone. I'll let Andy know that he's free to go."

.

When they got out of the station, they could see that the Andies had already left for the pub, while the rest of the little group had been walking more slowly and were still visible from where they were standing. They stayed behind, following them and enjoying some time by themselves. They finally reached the group in front of the pub and they all entered it. Nicholas quickly spotted the Andies near the bar, already with a drink in their hands, cigarettes between their lips. Everyone got a seat while Nicholas approached the duo.

"Andy," he said, getting both their attention. "You've got your week-end off," he added, stopping near them. Andy raised his eyebrows for a second, surprised he got his answer so fast and at first, he only nodded. "I'll need you to do as you said, a few more hours so that everything's in order, but it's all good," he explained.

"Yeah, sure," Andy simply said, still a bit surprised. It wasn't that Nicholas was mean or too severe with them, but he was kind of rigid when it came to work. Andy emptied his glass, slightly raised it as to show that he had to go, and he walked away towards the bar to get another beer.

As he handed his pint and waited for another one, hands on the edge of the counter, he turned his head to look at Danny, who was already sitting with the others. Danny was watching him and he met his eyes for a second. Butterman gave him a small smile that Andy didn't give back as he looked in front of him again.

"Good thing you did there," Wainwright told Nicholas who was still staring at Andy.

"I've heard it's a tradition so," Nicholas simply said. Andy looked at him for a moment before he walked past his chief, giving him a tap on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Nick," he said. "I'm sure he appreciates."

Then, Andy approached his best friend, also giving his pint to the man behind the bar and asking for another one. He leaned against the counter, glancing at the table where their colleagues were talking and laughing.

"You all right?" Andrew asked. Andy looked at him out of the corner of his eyes before taking a sip of his beer.

"Yeah."

Andrew didn't say anything, at first, he kept looking at their colleagues before finally looking at Andy.

"You sure?"

"What did I just tell you?" Andy asked quickly.

"Snappy," Andrew said with a smirk. Andy shook his head.

"Just tired," he sighed.

"I can see that." When Andy glanced at his partner again, Andrew simply pointed at his own face. "You look like you've just walked out of a grave."

"Whatever," Andy mumbled as he got his lighter out to light up another cigarette. They both had always smoked a lot, but lately, Andrew could see that Andy looked nervous and was smoking one cigarette after another.

"Y'know, if you wanna talk about it," Andrew began, getting another side glance from Andy.

"I know," he simply said as to end the conversation.


	2. Arrest

Andy put his hands on the edges of his sink as he looked at himself in the mirror, water still dripping from his face. He took a deep breath, the sigh following being just as deep, and after a moment, he took a towel to dry his face before getting dressed up in jeans and a white t-shirt. Before getting out of his place, he grabbed the bag he had prepared with clothes for the week-end and opened his door. He was a bit surprised to see Andy on the sidewalk, and yes, his heart did skip a beat when he saw him, but he just gave him a small smile as he locked his door.

Holding his bag above his shoulder, he approached his friend as he put on his sunglasses. The light was only accentuating his migraine, even if the sun was only coming up, and it would help hide the dark rings under his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Thought I'd say goodbye," Andrew said, starting to walk directly next to Andy who let out a quiet laughter.

"I'm only gone for two days, you'll survive this," he said. Andrew removed the cigarette he had between his lips, taking his time to let out all the smoke in a long breath, not answering Andy.

He knew where they were going. Andy would always walk to his old house, where his father would be waiting. They'd put everything in his old red truck, and they'd go. It was very early, Brian Libby was delivering the paper, and was the only person they crossed path with in the center of the village at that time. People were only starting to wake up. They would always leave early, as the ride would take a few hours out of their time.

"How's the head?" Andrew asked. Andy glanced at him, wondering how he knew he had another migraine.

"What?"

"You've been having headaches all week, how you're feeling now?" Andy slightly frowned. This was weird. He would never see Andrew on that specific day, he'd only see his father. Why would he come see him? And why was he trying to find something to talk about? It just felt awkward.

"It's not headaches, it's migraines," Andy said. Not really coldly, but as if getting this right was important. Andrew raised a brow as he looked at his friend.

"All right," Andrew said, taken aback, "any migraines?"

"I'm good," Andy said. "You were right, a good night of sleep was enough," he said. He hadn't slept well, and his head was killing him, but whatever. They fell silent again.

Andrew knew that Andy was going to get depressed around that time of the year, but it wasn't usually hitting him so hard. It was often very sudden, around a week before his birthday, as if he was suddenly conscious about what was coming. It wasn't like he was forgetting about his mother during the rest of the year, but because of the tradition he had with his dad, it made it all the more real every time.

Andrew had never really known the details of her death, of the months before her passing away, of what Andy had went through. He just knew that his friend was a sensitive kid at the time, and probably still was, but he had always put up this act of being tougher than he ever was. And Andrew had always decided to go along with it, because why not? If that's what Andy wanted.

It wasn't like Andy wasn't doing the same for him, right? Andrew had always been cynical about a lot of things, had always been a bit of a douche with other kids, to try and be more respected than he'd be if he was just acting normally. Being a bit arrogant sometimes, even if he was just a stupid teenager. And Andy had always decided to go along with it. He'd always let him know how good he was at doing things, how better they both were.

They'd just constantly fool themselves, really. But at least they had each other. And growing up, they had stopped saying all these things to reassure themselves, but they never really talked about them either. Andy wasn't sharing his feelings much. Andrew could see what was going on in his mind, he could see if he was sad, or if he was feeling good, even if Andy was always trying to not show anything. But if Andy wasn't talking about it, then Andrew wouldn't bother him with it. He'd just remind him that he was there, sometimes. Just so that Andy knew he had someone that would always listen.

It had happened in the past. They had both told things to each other, being each other's confident and best friend, but they would never go as far as crying into each other arms or anything. They both had too much pride. They had to be men, they had to be though, and they also had to not be ridiculous in front of the other.

Well, they were kind of stupid.

Still, there was something more, that year. Something Andrew couldn't understand. He could just tell. Andy was clearly not sleeping at night, things were keeping him awake, and sometimes he'd see him glance at the calendar in their office as if he was scared the date was closer than it was supposed to be. But Andy couldn't control time.

He couldn't control anything, really. He couldn't control his anxiety, his insomnias, his headaches, the fear stabbing him right in the stomach whenever he'd let his mind wander for too long. And he wanted to talk to Andrew, he wanted to tell him about everything, but he didn't want to worry him. And as he was sure he was close to a small mental breakdown, he preferred to keep everything to himself, or he'd be crying in Andrew's arms before he knew it. He didn't want Andrew to reject him, to tell him to man up and to stop being wrapped up in his own little word.

It'd take them both years to figure out by themselves that the both would accept anything from the other. Any behavior, any confidence. They were so far past any single risk of letting the other down without them realizing it. Toxic masculinity, toxic environment.

Still, even if neither of them would say anything about it, they both knew that Andrew wasn't there because he liked getting up very early to walk ten minutes with his best friend, but because he cared and was worried about him.

"Andrew!" The Andies looked up as they saw Andy's father, Clark, near the truck. Andrew remembered the first time he saw that old thing. The truck, not Andy's dad. It wasn't as used, there was no rust, it looked like it had just been painted. All their boxes were in the back, where Andy's dad would usually put the farm's merchandise after that. Andy's father approached the men and directly hugged Andrew, who, even after twenty-one years, wasn't used to that. He hugged him back, though. "What are you doing here?"

"I was up, I just thought I'd come by and say hi," Andrew said, glancing at Andy before smiling at his dad who put his hand on Andrew's shoulder before pressing it.

"You should come by more often, then, we'd have some apple pie together," he said as he also pressed Andy's shoulder.

"I will, sir," Andrew simply said. "It's been a while," he added. He used to hang out at Andy's house a lot when they were going to school together, eating pie and playing football in the garden. They both would still go eat with his father from time to time, but obviously, it was happening less often.

"Are you all set, son?" he then asked his son as he looked at his bag.

"Yeah, dad, we can go," Andy said as he walked towards the truck, opening the cabin to put his bag on the floor in front of his seat. His father was already getting behind the wheel as Andy sat down, closing his door. The window was completely opened, and he looked at Andrew. He let his arm out of the window as he considered him. He first opened his mouth and closed it, not saying anything. After a second and after clearing his throat, looking away, he slightly nodded. "Thanks for coming."

"All right," Andrew simply said, slightly waving his hand to say that it was all good. Andy slightly raised his hand, moving a finger to tell him to approach. When Andrew was close enough, Andy reached for the cigarette between his lips, taking it between his fingers. He then took a long drag, directly letting the smoke out in Andrew's face before handing him the cigarette again. His friend quietly laughed as he took it back.

"I'll see you on Monday."

"Sure."

Andrew took a step back as they left, and he watched until he couldn't see the truck anymore.

.

The ride wasn't really bothering Andy. He didn't use the time to rest, he didn't feel like sleeping. He didn't use the time to eat, he really wasn't hungry. If anything, he was a bit nauseous. Head on the side, against his seat, he simply watched the landscape behind his sunglasses. The music on the radio wasn't very loud, he could hear his father moving next to him, they were exchanging a few words sometimes. But even if his father seemed to be in a better mood, it was only to make Andy feel better. In the end, they were both sad.

Yes, they were going there to "celebrate her life", as they all liked to say, but they knew they wouldn't be able to do that. At least, Andy was sure of it. He never really coped.

Andy didn't miss his old village. Not really. It was like he belonged in Sandford, as if he had to be there at some point. He arrived because of bad reasons, but he was feeling like he would have landed there anyway. He felt at home in Sandford. And it wasn't a bunch of crazy, loony, murderous people that had made him change his mind about the place. It was the country, they were in the middle of nowhere, but he liked it. He had never known anything else and he didn't really want to. He belonged there. Maybe because Andrew was there, and Andrew had helped make things right again. Not because he was his first friend in the town, but because he was Andrew, and it was enough.

It took a very, very, _very_ long time for Andy to accept his feelings towards Andrew.

Oh, he kind of always knew he was gay, that hadn't been the surprise. He knew he liked guys way before he realized what he felt for Andrew and he dealt with that -it had been hard as well- in his own time. But accepting that he was falling in love with his best friend? His very heterosexual best friend? That hadn't been easy. Maybe that was the reason he had never told him about his sexual orientation, why he had made fun of Skinner as well, calling other kids gaylords or all sort of names, laughing with Andrew and talking about the girls in school they found hot. Or that Andrew found hot. Or whatever. He couldn't let anything show.

His father knew. He had talked to him about it because he couldn't keep everything to himself, he would have ended up exploding. And they were very close. They already were before his mother passed, but their bond had just become stronger afterwards. He hadn't been very afraid of his reaction, he just didn't want to disappoint him.

Sometimes, he had wondered if his father had been fine with the situation only because Andy had already gone through a lot, and that he didn't want to tell him awful things that would have made him feel worse. There had always been some doubts, but at the end of the day, he knew his dad loved him for who he was. Especially at his age, he wasn't afraid of that anymore.

His father also knew that he didn't want for that information to be known. By anyone. If there was a single person in Sandford learning about it one day, he knew that the entire town would know the next. He didn't need that. And the relationship between his new Chief Inspector and new Sergeant still hadn't made him want to tell anyone. His father had talked to him about it, saying that maybe now, he could relax a bit. Andy said "I'm good" and left it there.

He remembered when Andrew lost his virginity and told him all about it. How it had to be his turn, how Andrew was looking for girls that Andy would like to hook up with. As always, Andrew had been real classy about it. Andy had played along, but never did anything with any of these girls. He lost his virginity in his old village, during a visit there during the summer holidays. He had spent a week at his grandparents and when he came back to Sanford, he couldn't wait to tell Andrew that it had finally happened. The guy had become a pretty girl, a brunette with brown eyes. Cody had become Mandy, and the rest was history. Andrew had been so proud and excited. Andy had been mildly proud, mildly ashamed of his lie. But it was for the best.

Now, when it came to his feelings for Andrew… He could control them. Sort of. He was used to them. He could ignore them. He wouldn't act on them. Not ever. He wouldn't lose him this way. He was seeing him every day and even after work, they'd usually hang out. They had been inseparable since they were thirteen. He was used to seeing him and it was enough, he guessed. But sometimes, it would hit him again. Like seeing him in the morning light, waiting in front of his house to make sure he was okay and that he'd be okay… his heart would beat faster because he wouldn't expect seeing him there, and in those moments, he'd think that he wouldn't mind if Andrew was the first thing he'd see every morning. But then, he had to push these thoughts far away, because it wasn't like that, and it would never be like that. And it was fine. Andrew wasn't gay. Andrew didn't like him this way. They knew they loved each other, but in their own way. A different way. Still, Andrew was the main thing on his mind during the ride.

And he soon had to think about other things. Once they arrived, they put their bags in his grandparents' house and ate with them. Later, he went around the village, as he would often do, seeing some old friends he had gone to school with, learning about what was going on around there, who had just got engaged, who was pregnant, who had kids.

He and his dad would step by the old farm his father used to work at. Two of his childhood friends were working there, now, one had a family of his own, the other was living with his girlfriend. And there were his dad's old colleagues. The owner's wife would, as always, talk about how tall Andy was, now. She'd ask him about his life, and he'd have to repeat once again that he was a Detective and that life was good.

On their way to the pub, as they crossed path with some kids, some of them pointed at him, whispering and gaping. People knew that Andy had been part of the shootout at Sandford, obviously, and he somehow became kind of popular for that, in that quiet town.

Then, he'd offer help at the pub, being behind the counter with his grandparents for the evening, talking with some customers. Then, he'd go back on the other side of the counter to have one, maybe two beers. He'd usually stay until it'd close, but that evening, he didn't feel like it. So, he excused himself, saying that he was tired, and he left to maybe go back to the house. He didn't know what he wanted to do, really. Somehow, he found himself wandering aimlessly in the dark streets, breathing the fresh air of the night, alone with his thoughts.

As he finally entered his grandparents' street, lighting up a cigarette, it seemed that he could hear something. He didn't pay much attention, it didn't seem that close and he couldn't tell what it was. But the more he was approaching the house, the more he could hear it. He slightly frowned, looking around. Most lights in the street were turned off, it was very late, probably almost everyone was asleep.

He could see his grandparents' house from where he was standing but it's the one right next to it that caught his attention. That's where the noise was coming from and, now that he was so close, he could finally tell what it was. A baby crying. He stopped in front of the house, taking a drag of his fag as he noticed that the front door was wide open. He frowned. There was no light in the house. He approached, noticing that the little wooden gate wasn't locked. He had a bad feeling.

He slowly pushed it open. It creaked, and he stepped in the courtyard. He stopped for a moment, letting go of the gate that closed by itself again. He took a deep breath, listening to the baby. Finally, he walked towards the door. He didn't walk past it, he bent a little and knocked on the door with the back of his finger. He knew who lived there; Ashley. She had married Ryan a couple of years ago. The baby was born ten months ago, and they had just moved in this house. Andy could see the shape of boxes they hadn't unpacked yet. Ashley seemed happy to see Andy that morning, when his dad pulled up in front of the house.

They had only talked for a couple of minutes, it had been enough for him to learn that her husband was on a little trip with some friends from school. Every year, they'd go fishing. She was waiting for him to get back to finish unpacking. He had been stressed about leaving her with their ten months old little boy, but her mother had come to help. While they were talking, she had the baby in her arms. Luke. Andy had smiled at him, softly rubbing his cheek with his finger as he greeted him. He had promised Ashley to step by if he had some time.

"Ashley?" he called. No answer. "Ashley, it's Andy. I'm coming in, alright? It's just me," he announced. He slowly bent down, stubbed out his cigarette against the small step made of stone and left it there before he stepped in. He looked behind just for a second. The street was completely empty. He didn't turn on the lights. Instead, he walked around, not going upstairs to check on the baby at first. He needed to find Ashley. No one was around and if it wasn't for the baby, everything was silent. So, he walked towards the stairs and slowly started to climb them. Some steps creaked under him, his hand was on the handrail and he looked to his left, from where the cries were coming from, and he looked on his right. He had already been inside that house and if he remembered properly, that should be where Ashley's bedroom was. He walked towards it, trying to ignore his gut feeling.

The bedroom door at the end of the hallway was opened and he was almost certain the shape in the bed, under the covers, was Ashley. He walked slowly towards it and didn't touch the door to push it open completely, mainly because of the stains that seemed to be on it. He slowly sidled in the room and approached the bed.

"Ashley…" he murmured, not really calling for her anymore at that point. He knew, somehow. Still, he walked towards the bed, not even thinking about taking his phone and calling someone. He couldn't. As he stopped next to the bed, he wondered if he shouldn't have been there that day, if he shouldn't have found some time to step in, like he said he would maybe do. She seemed to be asleep, but she wasn't moving at all. He couldn't tell if she was breathing or not, but he was sure she wasn't.

His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he reached for the cover. He slowly removed it, only to discover that it was soaked in blood. So was her nightgown and the mattress. That's when he felt his energy leaving him and he fell on his knees, next to the bed. His shaking hands reached for her face. He removed the hair that was covering it, put his hands on her cold cheeks, called her name again.

He didn't really know what he was doing, but he found himself in the hallway, leaving traces of blood on the door as he made his way out of the room. He walked towards the nursery, his own heartbeat covering all the noise the baby was making, and wishing he was alright, and that nobody was in that room with him. He stopped in front of the narrowed doorway. He didn't pay attention to the blood on his hand as he put it against the door to push it open.

The crib was waiting for him, in the middle of the room. Only the night light was turned on. He walked towards it and revealed himself to the infant. Luke, noticing Andy, didn't stop crying but seemed a bit less stressed out. Finally, someone was there to take care of him. Andy slowly took the baby in his hands, lifting him up and taking him in his arms. He didn't know what to do. He just wanted to try and calm him down, so he slowly rocked him, trying to soothe the crying child.

He didn't know for how long he stood there, eyes closed, holding the baby in his warm arms, trying to comfort him. He just knew that he cried a little, and that after a moment, he heard the distinctive sound of a gun clicking behind him. He opened his eyes again. The baby had been silent for a moment now.

"Slowly place the baby in the crib and turn around," Andy heard. Andy didn't move at first. He stared at the wall for a short moment, breathing deeply. He slowly turned around, Luke still in his arms. The baby had his thumb in his mouth, but his eyes were wide open. He was staring at Andy, visibly calm.

Andy felt slightly reassured when he saw that the man in the doorway was a police officer. Yet, he knew that he was about to get arrested. His thoughts weren't making any sense and he wasn't sure about what he had to do.

"He's here! I've got him!" the policeman said louder, visibly calling a colleague. Soon enough, a woman joined him, her gun between her hands as well. She recognized Andy, though.

"Cartwright," she let out in a breath. Andy still hadn't moved nor said anything. "Andy, don't do anything else you'll regret," she said quietly, stepping in the room.

"Look," Andy said a bit quickly, hoarse. "I didn't do anything, you're making a mistake." His mouth was dry, and his eyes were moving quickly as he was looking at the officers back and forth.

The woman was still slowly walking towards him and showed him that she wasn't going to hurt him. Slowly, she lowered her gun, raising one of her hand as she put it back in her holster. Both hands raised, she stopped near Andy.

"Give me the baby, Andy, and come with us," she said, her eyes going on Luke and checking if Andy didn't have any weapon. She then met Andy's eyes and, slowly, he did give her the baby. It seemed for a second that he didn't want to let go of Luke, but he let her take him. His white onesie was now dirty, and Andy slowly looked down at his bloody hands. When he looked up again, the man was in front of him and directly put a hand on his arm, making him turn around.

"Andrew Cartwright, you are under arrest…"

He didn't hear the rest of his speech as he was getting cuffed.

He was escorted out of the house and walked towards the police car, the officer holding him by his shoulder. The street was lighted by the blue lights of the car, and he could see some people watching. A couple was in their doorway, one or two other people were watching from their windows. He was pushed in the car and the door closed behind him.


	3. Exhaustion

**A/N: at the very beginning, the idea for Andy's backstory didn't come in that order. I had an entire other scenario with Nick and Danny having a week off and actually spending it in Andy's old village, they would have seen pictures of him in his grandparents' pub and would have learned about his mother. you can see that everything is changed, I'm just keeping some elements.**

 **so yeah, Danny was supposed to be there, but then, for some reasons including the dialogues and all that, I changed that. i love Danny, though, he should be there later in the story.**

* * *

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Andy asked loudly. He had been in that interrogation room for hours and was losing the very little amount of patience he had left in him. After the ride, he had to walk in the station, seeing some people he knew just watch him with handcuffs, blood on his hands, on his white t-shirt, on his jeans, some on his forehead. He didn't remember struggling that much to get back on his feet after discovering the body, but he had made a mess.

Then, they put him in that room and had left him there for an hour. They had dealt with the crime scene, he had someone to watch him, and he didn't complain once. He used the time to think about what was happening.

Also, he was exhausted. His head was killing him, and his eyelids were heavy, but the adrenaline wouldn't let him fall asleep. He only asked the guard if his dad had been notified. Apparently, he was in the station as well, so yes, he knew. When the officer that had arrested him came in, he refused to say anything and had instead asked for his phone call. He also said that he didn't want a lawyer. He didn't need one, he was innocent. He asked for his phone call once again and they only let him use the phone half an hour later. He didn't know why, but he called Andrew.

He told him that he had been arrested, that he was being interrogated by some dickhead who had to learn how to do his fucking job, and asked if he could do something about it, he said that he needed help. The officer left after the phone call, and it was only hours later that someone else came in. Mary, the officer he knew. She had been asking him questions and he was starting to get angrier.

"You're not in position to talk this way," she simply said. Andy seemed to be about to retort something, but he stopped himself from doing so. He let out a deep sigh.

"I haven't done anything," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then where were you?" she asked for the tenth time.

"I told you-!" Andy closed his eyes as he clenched his jaw. He took a few breaths before opening his eyes again. "I was outside. I was… walking. Alone, yeah, sorry, I needed some time to think!" he said, his voice becoming gradually louder. "And before that, I was at the pub, there were plenty of people who saw me!"

"How long?" she asked.

"What?"

"How long were you walking?"

"I-I don't know… an hour, maybe?" Andy said, a bit taken aback. "I've already told you that."

"In the meantime, your father arrived," Mary explained. "You left the pub, and you were found on the scene three hours later. Not one hour, not an hour and a half… three hours later. If you weren't in that house when Ashley was killed, and that you walked for an hour, what were you doing during the other two?"

"I… I…" Andy blinked rapidly, his breathing getting a bit faster. "I've walked for three hours, then…" After that, he stuttered a few words before he fell silent.

"Have you looked at yourself, Andy?" Mary asked. He slowly looked up, his light blue eyes meeting hers. He was so pale, and the skin around his eyes was so dark that she felt like he was looking through her. "When was the last time you've slept?"

"I-I don't… I don't know," he said very quietly. "I have insomnia," he added in a whisper.

"How come?" she asked quietly. She could see Andy's leg twitching and how nervous he was. He was handcuffed on the table and she could see his fingers. He had been trying to get rid of some of the dried blood on them with his nails and was nervously doing so.

"I've got… anxiety," he simply said, staring at his hands, blinking. "And… migraines," he whispered.

"Migraines?"

"You heard me," he said more suddenly and coldly, but still not looking at her. He swallowed his spit before coughing, his throat being too dry.

There was a moment of silence. Mary considered him for a moment before opening the file she had in front of her. She got some pictures out and slowly pushed them towards Andy. He only glanced at them before he looked away.

"I didn't do that," he said, not able to look at Ashley's corpse. He felt the tears coming back and he bit his lip from the inside of his mouth, trying to keep them in. His body was very slightly rocking back and forth, now, his leg moving faster. "You know me, you know I couldn't have," he struggled to say.

"I knew you," she said. "We were kids… People change. Right now, when I look at you…" Andy looked up at her, a bit suddenly, taken aback and not wanting to hear the rest of it. "I don't know what you'd be capable of. You look like a complete wreck."

Andy didn't say anything, at first. He looked down at the table and Mary could see his jaw moving as if he was chewing. He was gritting his teeth so hard that it was starting to hurt him.

"I don't remember what happened," he said quietly, his voice shaking a little, "but I didn't kill her. I wouldn't do something like that."

"Like what?" Mary asked calmly. Andy closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head.

"Leave me alone," he begged.

"Do something like what, Andrew?" she asked more firmly.

"Take her away from him!" Andy said more loudly, his fists banging against the table. Mary hadn't moved, kept calm and just stared at him as she met his red eyes once again. She knew what he meant.

Earlier, her colleague had ventured his theory. Something along the lines of Andy wanting to have Ashley for himself. Maybe an old crush, a burning passion. Coming there every year, seeing her again… Last year, pregnant, that year, with a child that should have been his. What if he learned her husband was out of town and that he thought he could try something? She refused, resisted, he killed her in a fit of pure rage and jealousy. Bullshit. That's all Andy had told him. That it was bullshit and that he could shove his theory far up his arse.

If he hadn't been so nervous, he would have laughed at his face, told him about how much of a moron he was. He wouldn't have dared defending himself by saying he was gay, he would have twisted it. Maybe he wanted her husband, then. Bullshit.

But Mary knew what he really meant by saying that. Take a mother away from her little boy. She took the pictures back and hid them in the file again.

"How could you have forgotten two entire hours of your life?" she then asked. Andy slowly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He needed to smoke so badly.

"I think…" he began, hesitant. "I think I'm sick…" he whispered.

"Sick?"

"You know exactly what I mean," he said quietly as he looked at her. She knew exactly what he meant, yes.

"Have you seen a doctor about it?" she asked. Andy slightly shook his head. "Do you think that could have driven you to-"

"Murder?" Andy interrupted her with a steadier voice. "I don't kill people. And I want to see my dad. So, either you leave me the fuck alone, either you let me talk to him." Mary pursed her lips and after having looked at him for a moment, she stood up to leave the room. Andy sighed quietly as he slowly leaned against the back of his chair and stared at his hands.

He heard the door close and, not long afterwards, he slowly turned his head on the side to look at himself in the huge mirror. He didn't wonder if anyone was behind, listening, he just wanted to look at himself. He did, in fact, look like a wreck.

Behind the glass, Andrew and Nicholas had been listening to the entire exchange and were staring at Andy. Andrew was way more shaken up than Nicholas was, or at least, he had a harder time hiding it.

As soon as he got Andy's call, he knew what to do. It didn't matter if his Chief was asleep or whatever the fuck he was doing at this time of the night, even if it was Danny. He dressed up, left his place, literally ran to Nicholas and Danny's cottage and banged against the door. Nicholas had been the one opening and letting in -well, he didn't really have a choice- a very panicky and angry Andrew. He explained the situation to two very confused cops. Danny had wanted to come as well but Nicholas needed for someone to take care of the station in his absence, and he knew that Danny could handle this kind of task. He was seeing him doing it every day and had learned a lot from him. Nicholas was trusting him. Then, both Andrew and Nicholas got into the latter's car and they left for Andy's old village.

Nicholas had directly called the station as well, saying that they were on their way. Andy wasn't aware of that, but the cops were, and that was why Mary's colleague had tried to get everything he could out of Andy before they arrived. They knew they had a couple of hours and they tried to do something about it, but nothing happened.

When Nicholas and Andrew arrived at the station, the situation had been explained to them by the Chief Inspector himself. They knew how they had been notified about the noise in the house by neighbors, that the door was open, that they saw someone going in and never come out… how they found Andy with the baby in his arms…

Andy's father was already there, horrified by such accusations against his son. Nicholas knew how to handle the situation and, while Andrew wanted to see Andy, he had forced him to wait. He then had a discussion alone with Andy's father. Then, they wanted to see what Andy had to say about the whole thing. That's when Mary went in and that they observed.

Andrew had been quite shocked, seeing Andy in this state of mind and looking like that, with blood on him and looking more like a corpse than a killer. Nicholas hadn't shown his feelings but had asked the Chief Inspector why he hadn't been allowed to clean up. But worse than that, Andrew hearing that Andy thought he was sick had torn his stomach. He wasn't totally sure about what he meant by that, but if it was what he thought, it wasn't good. Still, he was sure that he was innocent.

The door opened and Mary stepped in, glancing at Andy's colleagues before looking at her boss.

"We won't get anything else out of him," she said.

"Right," the Chief said. He looked at Nicholas. "You're free to go talk to him, but we have the right to keep him for forty-eight hours. With the accusations and what I've seen in his disciplinary folder, we know he's capable of being violent. This isn't looking good for him." Nicholas slightly frowned, glanced at Andrew and, without another word, he left the room and walked towards the door next to it with Andrew.

He turned to face Andrew.

"You need to remain calm," he said.

"I know," Andrew said as he nodded, glancing around at the cops that were looking at them. Before Nicholas could open the door, Andrew put his hand on his arm. "He's innocent, Nick." Nicholas took a deep breath before looking at Andrew. "He's not violent, Nick, it's not… him. He did some stuff, once, but… it wasn't his fault," he said. Nicholas frowned again, glanced at the door, then got a bit closer to Andrew.

"I've read your files, when I was promoted, but I don't know what happened," he said. "I didn't try to know, because I don't care, this isn't the Andrew I know. If you tell me it belongs to the past, I believe you."

"It does. I swear," Andrew said.

"I believe he's innocent as well, alright? Let's talk to him."

.

When they entered, Andy looked up directly. He was surprised to see them and slightly opened his mouth but didn't say anything. He quickly looked away, ashamed. Andrew stepped in first, directly pulling one of the chairs. He didn't want to sit just in front of him. He moved it next to the table and sat closer to Andy. During this time, Nicholas had stopped at the entrance and talked to the guard.

"I want him to have some water and something to clean up," he said. He then walked towards the table to sit in front of Andy as the guard got out of the room. "Hey, Andy," he said more quietly. Andy glanced at him, then at Andrew.

"I was only supposed to see you on Monday, mate," Andrew said, his eyes slowly going down on Andy's dry lips. "What happened?"

Andy slightly shrugged as he turned his head, looking away.

"I haven't done anything," he repeated, his voice shaking again. Both Andrew and Nicholas saw the tear rolling down his pale cheek. But they could see he had already cried a bit, red traces marking his pale skin.

"We're going to get you out of here," Andrew said, finally meeting his eyes. "But we need your help, alright?"

"I've told them everything I know," Andy said quietly as he closed his eyes. He was exhausted. The door opened again, and the guard came back with a cup of water and a towel. Mary was following with wipes and a bottle of water. Nicholas thanked them without looking at them, only at Andy, and Mary detached the handcuffs from the table so that Andy could take his cup and drink, which he directly did. They both left, and Nicholas and Andrew watched him empty his cup.

As Nicholas took the bottle to put some water in the cup again, Andy took a first wipe to remove what was on his hands, just slightly struggling because of the cuffs. Andrew directly reacted and stopped him, slowly taking the wipe from his hands. He held one of his wrists, starting to clean his hands himself.

"How's Luke?" Andy asked, still focusing his gaze on his hands. Andrew slightly frowned, and Andy met Nicholas' eyes. "Ashley's son…"

"He's… he's alright… He's being taken care of. Ashley's parents are here, they're with him," he explained. Andy had closed his eyes when he heard about Ashley's parents. They were probably devastated. And at that moment, they were probably thinking he was the one who did it. "And his father is on his way back," he added.

"What do you know?" Andy asked quietly after a moment of silence.

"Basically everything," Nicholas said, glancing at Andrew who was still cleaning Andy's hands without saying anything. "And we've listened to what you had to say to officer Archer," he said, talking about Mary. Andy slightly nodded, sniffed and looked at his hand as Andrew tried to remove the blood from under his nails with a second wipe. "What did you mean when you said you were sick?" Nicholas then asked a bit bluntly, but kindly. He didn't mean to push, he just wanted a conversation, but they didn't have all the time they wanted. Andy only looked at him for a second before he looked at his hands again.

"Is it about your migraines?" Andrew asked quietly. Andy shrugged again. Andrew got closer to the table as he tilted his head, putting the wipe down on the table and letting go of his hands. He only knew what cancer Andy's mother had thanks to his dad. Andy had never uttered a word about it. "Andy, talk to me." Andy closed his eyes for a second before finally meeting Andrew's. He looked at him for a moment as he breathed deeply.

"It's like… my brain's being crushed inside my skull," he articulated, his voice slightly breaking. "And I can't sleep and… I can't remember…" Nicholas breathed deeply as he understood. His mother had brain cancer. That's why the officer knew what he was talking about. Because they all knew what killed her. And that was why Andy was looking so terrible lately. But why hadn't he said anything?

"But you haven't seen a doctor," he said quietly. Andy didn't look at him, he kept staring at Andrew who just tried to hide how devastated he was feeling. Andy shook his head without any conviction. "Why?"

"Because," he said, even though they almost didn't hear him. "I don't want it to be real…"

In Nicholas mind, it didn't make that much sense. He was always logical. If something was happening, you had to react to it the proper way. If he had symptoms of something, he'd go to the doctor to make sure he was doing fine. Not getting a diagnosis wouldn't make the tumor disappear if it was actually there. But he knew their mind wasn't working the same way, and that some people needed to lie to themselves, or that they had different coping mechanisms.

After another moment of silence, Andrew moved. He took a new wipe and carefully approached Andy a bit more. He started rubbing his forehead to remove the traces of blood he had left on his skin. Nicholas watched, using this time to think. He stared at Andy, watching the way he was looking at Andrew, and he watched how his best friend was trying to show that he cared by cleaning the blood of some dead lady he had on his face.

"Did you know Ashley well?" Nicholas asked.

"I used to. We've always been to the same school, when I lived here. We wouldn't hang out much or anything, but we were friends I guess. I'd talk to her every time I'd come back here," he explained.

"One of those guys," Andrew said, pointing at the door behind him with his thumb, "seems to believe you had some kind of crush on her." Nicholas opened his mouth to directly say something but stopped himself when he saw Andy quickly looking away. He glanced at Andrew, guessing that he really didn't know.

"He thinks… he thinks I tried to… to rape her," Andy said, looking down, horrified by just thinking about it. "I told them it wasn't like that, it never was, I-I-! I told them…" There was another silence. "But they'll see, won't they?" he asked, looking at Nicholas. "With the autopsy, with… They'll see I never touched her… There would be bruises or… or something… They'll see… won't they?"

Andrew and Nicholas exchanged a glance.

"What is it?" Andy asked.

"Andy, you realize you've been here for hours, right?" Nicholas asked, joining his hands on the table as he approached a bit. Andy slightly frowned. "There's still a few hours left before the autopsy but… They've had plenty of time to come to some conclusions on the scene."

Andy's heart skipped a beat. He closed his eyes as he brought his hands to his face, slowly shaking it.

"No, please, no…"

"There were traces of sexual assault," Nicholas said. Andy took a deep breath.

"It wasn't me, you have to believe me… It wasn't me…"

"I know, Andy," Nicholas said. After a short moment, he saw his eyes from behind his hands. They exchanged a look. "I talked to your father. I know."

Andy closed his eyes again as he let his hands fall against the table with a sigh. No one could tell if it was a sigh of relief or not. Andrew only frowned as he looked at Nicholas. He simply had a head movement to tell him not to ask questions.

"I have to get out of here," Andy finally said.

"You will. Very soon," Nicholas said. "They probably won't find anything incriminating. You left prints on the scene, but no one can prove you were there when she was murdered. They're trying to scare you, to make you confess. They established the time of death, but you apparently said she was already cold when you found her. The woman that saw you enter called the cops no long before seeing you. They're trying to say you went back to the crime scene, maybe to hide evidences. But we know when you left the pub, and at what time she was killed. Since you left the pub some time before the crime, they're going to try and check if you could have made it in time. But you were on foot, and even running, you probably wouldn't have had the time to go there, enter the house…" he marked a short pause before continuing, "rape her and stab her in time to stick to their observations. Then what, you left, walked around for hours before coming back to hide things and calm the baby? It doesn't make any sense. Especially in the physical condition you're in. They're just trying to keep you as long as they can because they need to arrest someone. You'll be out of here in no time, now, they don't have as much against you as what they'd like you to think, and we're here to make sure there's no slip up."

"Why do they want for me to be guilty so bad?" Andy asked. Nicholas opened his mouth, but Andrew answered as he got his cigarettes out.

"You know why," he said. "It's hard to accept the truth, ain't it? That's it's your own people that are guilty and all that crap…"

Andy and Nicholas both slightly looked down for a second.

"Well, they'll have to wake up too, they won't have a choice," Nicholas then said. Andy couldn't help but sigh. This was crazy. That morning, looking at himself in the mirror, he would have never thought he'd be in that room almost twenty-four hours later. And yet, there he was. Exhausted, devastated… He just wanted to go home.

"What time is it?" he asked quietly. Andrew looked at his watch as he let out a thick cloud of smoke.

"Half past four," he said.

It was his birthday. Well, he had had a worse birthday in the past but still, that was pretty high on the scale of shitty birthdays.

"I'm sorry," he then mumbled. "Making you come all the way here… I… I didn't know who else I could call…" he said. He then glanced at Andrew. "You're the first person that popped into my mind, I…"

"Hey, it's all good," Andrew said directly. He approached the table, handing his cigarette to Andy so that he just had to take a drag. He watched him do so. "I would have been mad to learn I wasn't the one you called." Andy breathed the smoke out through his nostrils as the corner of his lips slightly curled up. He hadn't felt like smiling for the last twenty hours or so, but Andrew would always make him feel a bit better.


End file.
